


Travels of an Ex-Professor

by TouhouEmblem



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: I'm not kidding, M/M, Major Spoilers, don't even read if you haven't beaten golden deer route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-27 17:47:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20050057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TouhouEmblem/pseuds/TouhouEmblem
Summary: Byleth finds himself traveling a lot. Too much traveling ensures that he'll visit places once called home.





	Travels of an Ex-Professor

**Author's Note:**

> THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS ABOUT GOLDEN DEER ROUTE ALL THE WAY UP TO ENDING AND THREE HOUSES IN GENERAL. DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T WANNA BE SPOILED. Also didn't know what to name this wtihout the title being spoilery lmao
> 
> Finished Golden Deer Route three days after Three Houses released and I absolute love Seteth. I played as m!Byleth cause I was stupid and thought that I wouldn't fall in love with any of the guys. 
> 
> I married Flayn cause I wanted to see the S support so this story is based off that idea since I want to experience Seteth's S support blind.

“Perhaps it would be best if we relocated soon,” It’s a simple suggestion, but no suggestion from Seteth is ever offered carelessly. The warm wind air of Brigid flows around them. 

Byleth gently closes his book, a collection of wondrous accounts regarding the heroic tales of Saint Cichol; the lack of validity in them brings a smile to his lips, Seteth constantly refuting the false stories. 

Seteth sighs upon spotting the cover, rant already beginning. “Really now? Those stories are pure fiction, the amount of lies-” 

“I like reading about you,” Byleth teases, a peck placed on Seteth’s lips to quiet him. Seteth’s blush still warms Byleth’s heart after all these years. “So soon?” 

“We have lived here for eight years; I’m sure the neighbors must suspect something by now,” Heading back inside, Seteth leaves Byleth outside. The sun’s warm caressing rays not as important as his husband, Byleth stretches before following him. 

Their plain living room devoid of Seteth, Byleth walks into their room. Working quickly, Seteth already has most of their clothes packed, a mixture of their old out of fashion clothes with those more fitting the current period. “We leave in three days. I’ve already informed Flayn of this decision,” A frown mars Byleth’s face, a sigh followed afterwards. 

“Where to?” Grabbing his luggage, Byleth places it under their bed as Seteth does the same. 

“Flayn chose last time and I chose Albinea prior to that,” Byleth shudders upon recalling their time in Albinea, the frigid winds constantly seeping into his and Flayn’s bones every day. Seteth cherished the country’s climate, its sparse population fitting for his cautious nature. 

“Derdriu,” Byleth chooses with no hesitation. Seteth rubs his temple for hearing Byleth’s suggestion once again, Derdriu his constant choice. 

“Again, Byleth, we can’t return there,” 

“There’s too many portraits of use in Derdriu,” Byleth impersonates Seteth, eyes downcast. 

“Why must I be the voice of reason?” Hand on his forehead, Seteth sighs. “We cannot-”

“I believe we should head to Derdriu, father,” Flayn chimes in, standing in the doorway. 

“Flayn! How much must I remind you to refrain from eavesdropping? And what have I said about referring to me in such a way? We cannot risk-” 

“It’s been 234 years since we lived there, Seteth. Everyone is dead; we’re fine” Byleth spits out. 

“I agree with second father, father. To live in such a constant state of fear is no way to live indeed,” Flayn adds. 

“I am not afraid, I am merely being cautious. And no one refers to their parent as such, sister.” Flayn pouts upon Seteth’s rebuttal.”234 years is around four generations. That is soon enough for people to still recount stories of us. And to return to the capital of all places is paramount to idiocy!” 

“I want to see how everyone is doing,” 

“I vote for us to finally return to Derdriu as well. I will have my things packed by this noon,” Leaving her parents room, Flayn begins packing her own belongings. 

“Flayn and I will head for Derdiu, what will you do?” 

“I will accompany you two to Derdriu then. But-”

“No buts. We defeated Nemesis 612 years ago and waited for 360 years to return to Derdriu. We’ll be fine. So let Flayn refer to you as she wishes,” 

Seteth huffs as he listens to Byleth. “Fine. However, if we encounter any issues concerning our identity, then we shall follow my lead from now on,”   
A noncommittal groan from Byleth and Flayn’s excited “Yes father!” is their response.

The three days passing by, they head to Derdriu by carriage. The travel remains uneventful, nature slowly changing from Brigid's warm snowless winter to the colder windier winter of Leicester. 

By the time they return to Derdriu, the night sky adorns the cityscape, the city's numerous lights brightening the city. 

"We rest at an inn, then secure a place of living," Seteth announces as he carries their luggage, the three of them ensuring that no one is within earshot. 

“We’re lost aren’t we?” Slinking away, Byleth finds the first person he can, a kind old lady who points them to the nearest inn, the directions in the opposite direction. 

“Would you rather I announce to the entire city that we are new here? We must not raise any suspicion!” Seething, Seteth rushes ahead of them. 

“Forgive father-,” 

“I know, Flayn. He’s just on edge, but you don’t have to apologize for him,” Byleth pats Flayn’s head, the two chatting away as the point out the different layout of the city, all of the old familiar shops replaced with newer ones or now houses. 

The innkeeper gives them a weird look as Seteth requests two rooms, but the look disappears upon Seteth’s payment and scowl. Quickly settling in, it takes little time for Flayn to enter her parents room, smile fading from Seteth’s continued scowl, his arms crossed against his chest while Byleth sits on their bed.

“You two are to avoid the royal district, do I make myself clear?” 

“That’s why we came to Derdriu,” Head facing the ceiling, Byleth ignores his budding frustration, hands clamping down on the sheets. 

“We left Brigid to remain safe; Derdriu is decidedly unsafe for us, but you two insisted on traveling here. So we are to never step anywhere near the castle,” 

“Of course father,” Flayn bids them goodnight, returning to her room, shoulders sagging. 

“I’ll try,” Byleth scoffs, retiring early for the night.

“I will be responsible then. I’ll be back soon,” The door almost slammed shut, Seteth sighs before gently closing it. The lateness of his visit to Derdriu Hall raises suspicion, but the extra cash keeps everyone quiet, the plot of land quickly bought. Tense the entire time, Seteth withholds his comments, the greedy nature of people constant regardless of the time or location. 

Leaving the inn first thing in the morning, Seteth shows them to their new home, a small quaint house in an already quaint district, far away from any nobles or royals. 

Derdriu a constantly ever-changing city, the layout proves taxing, two months needed before Byleth commits it to memory, refamiliarizing himself with the city. Listening to Seteth, none of them travel far, the castle on the entire opposite end of the city. It’s on an errand with Flayn on the eighth day of the Horsebow Moon that the two find themselves caught in the marketplace, a procession taking place celebrating the defeat of Nemesis and Byleth’s reign Claude abdicating to him to rule Almyra. The procession features the royal knights carrying the Crest of Flames, the town cheering and thanking them for the country’s continued peace. 

Head down in the back, Byleth smiles from the joyous occasion, Fodlan still doing alright. Head lifting up from a loud cheer, Byleth blushes as he stares at the current heads of the Leicester Alliance, Byleth catching a glimpse of the ring on the queen’s waving hand. A tugging at his hand breaks him out of his stupor. 

“Father, surely we should head back,” Flayn’s furtive glances at the rulers don’t go unnoticed by Byleth. 

“If you want to see them, it’s okay,” Flayn keeps her head down, not risking anything. A sigh escaping Byleth’s lips, he grabs the groceries from Flayn, leading the way back to their house.

The sun still high in the sky, Byleth simply heads to the kitchen to begin dinner, a curt hello to Seteth his greeting. Flayn retreats to her room, excusing herself as Byleth chops the vegetables. 

“Is everything alright?” 

“I’m fine,” Potatoes minced, Byleth keeps his back to Seteth, conjuring up a flame to heat them. 

“You are clearly not fine,” Seteth groans, eyes closed. “If you wish to speak about the matter, I am here for you,” 

“Thanks,” Is all Byleth responds, the sauteing meat more important. “Dinner’s ready,” 

The tense dinner eaten in silence, Byleth heads to bed immediately after. Seteth washes the dishes, Flayn offering no information as she dries them; upon heading to bed himself, Seteth finds Byleth already asleep.

The next day, Byleth finds Seteth gone, his turn to head to the market. By noon, the house remains occupied only by Byleth and Flayn, the two finishing their late breakfast. 

“I’m heading out. I’ll be back later,” Byleth announces after washing the dishes, the kitchen as clean as it was before their breakfast.

“Oh, to where?” Byleth bites his lip.

“To the royal cemetery. Don’t tell your father,” Rushing out the door, Byleth turns from the door opening and closing behind him. 

“I wish to go as well,” Byleth waiting for her, the two travel through the city, the newer areas slowly turning to the older, constant designs of the nobles and the head of the Leicester Alliance. 

Crowned king upon Claude’s return to Almyra, Byleth and Seteth were unable to produce an heir. Instead, the two adopted, the child inheriting House Reigen’s fortune as per her godfather’s wish.The ability to claim their ancestors defeated Nemesis once and for all was enough weight alone, the House retaining head of the Leicester Alliance. Their reign only cemented their importance. Byleth abdicated the throne early, retiring to a villa with Seteth and Flayn, the two staying for their adopted son’s life and most of their grandchildren's lives, the three moving to Dagda afterwards.

“How are we going to get inside?” Flayn asks as they make a stop, Byleth purchasing night lilies. 

“Jeralt made the royal cemetery open to the public. I told him we would have to leave one day and he promised me,” Byleth smiles as he recounts his adopted son. He found the poor orphan stealing, so he offered to pay for the stolen goods. Tracking him down and questioning, he apologized to Byleth, saying his name was Jeralt. Byleth took it as a sign, adopting him ”And he did. I don’t know if they’re still open to the public,” Byleth offers nothing more, buying peonies. 

The trek proves fruitful, the cemetery still open to all. The guard eyes Byleth’s distant face and the bundle of flowers in his arms. He stands proudly upon noticing Flayn, acting brave in front of her. They ignore their graves, the markers nothing more than decoration. His feet guide him straight to Jeralt’s grave, the dust slightly settled over it. Cleaning it, Byleth kneels, placing the night lilies on his grave as Flayn kneels beside him.

“He loved night lilies so much,” Byleth whispers, hands clenched in his lap. “You picked some for him when he got sick when he was eleven,” 

“He cried when they wilted, didn’t he? Father picked some more to calm him down,” Flayn laughs. “He proposed with them and the ring you gave father,” 

“He did,” Byleth chuckles, the tears prickling his eyes. “He was always a smart alec,” Byleth shakes his head.. “His children were adorable,” Getting up, Byleth walks towards the burial plots next to them. “Seteth hated their names,” 

“I think their names are fantastic,” Flayn joins Byleth, the two gazing at the two graves belonging to Jeralt’s children. Twins born at midnight, Byleth named them Cichol and Cethleann. “They were always terrified of father’s lectures,”

“I don’t blame them. Seteth yelled at them for nearly an hour after they left the castle without telling anyone,” Placing the peonies on their graves, Byleth sighs, knees cracking as he stands up. “I wish we got to know everyone,” Byleth eyes the other graves as helps Flayn up, the two heading back as the sun sets. 

The weirded out guard stands at attention from Flayn’s smile and thanks, all thoughts of the weird pair gone from her sweet mannerisms. 

“What shall we tell father?” The two retrace their steps, the lights of Derdriu turning on as the moon replaces the sun. 

“I’ll tell him we visited them; he should see them,” Taking his time, Byleth descends the stairs one step at a time. Flayn gives Byleth a look, unsure of what to say. “Do you want him to visit them, too?” 

“Yes, but father,” Flayn pauses, deciding her words. “Father is too cautious,” 

“I know,” Byleth laments, dreading the scolding. Their arrival at their house holds no confrontation, Seteth not home. 

“Father should be home by now,” Flayn looks out the window, the moon indeed perched high in the sky. 

“I’ll be back in thirty minutes. If Seteth shows up, then tell him to wait. If I show up alone, then we’ll worry. He’s probably searching for us,” Not waiting for a confirmation, Byleth storms out of the house. Heading back towards the castle, he asks every person about a man with green hair a tad darker than his own. Most strangers recount nothing of the short, but a few point him back towards the castle, Byleth heeding their advice. The advice well given, Byleth finds Seteth traveling down an alley. 

“Seteth,” Byleth dryly calls, his throat drying. Seteth whips around, face neutral as he rushes towards Byleth. 

“Are you okay? Where’s Flayn? I-”

“We’re fine. Flayn is back home waiting for us,” Grabbing Seteth’s hand, Byleth falters as Seteth tugs him, not following him. 

“Where have you two been?” 

“The royal cemetery,” 

“Byleth, are you joking?” Seteth implores; finding no trace of a smile on his face, Seteth stands up straight. “What if people from the castle saw your portraits and then you? You and Flayn-”

“I went to see Jeralt,” Seteth shuts up, not expecting to hear that name. He clears his throat soon after.

“We cannot risk-”

“I don’t care. I’m tired of living like this. Like we’re being hunted. The Agarthans are dead, Seteth,” 

“They abducted Flayn after 1,000 years. Who’s to say-”

“You can’t keep being worried! I’m tired of it, so is Flayn! She just feels bad saying so. I had to get you to stop harassing her classmates back at Garreg Mach,”  
“I am worried about-”

“About what? We’re fine,”

“I am concerned about losing either of you,” Seteth breathes, eyes downcast at Byleth. “I have already lost one spouse from my idiocy,” Seteth caresses Byleth, hugging him tightly against himself. Byleth remains silent, arms trapped in Seteth’s. “I apologize, I did not intend to guilt-”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t- the thought never crossed my mind,” 

“It’s my fault. Flayn informed me of the reasons for your worsening mood and yet I brushed it off,”

“Can’t believe Flayn has to be the sensible one for us,” Byleth mumbles, feeling ashamed. “What was she like? Your wife,”

“She was radiant; she thirsted for battle and loved the thrill of it. I detested it at the time, disillusioned from all the fighting,”

“Did she know? About your blood?” 

“Truthfully, I never informed her until after we married. I feared her leaving me and never worked the courage to tell her until then,” Seteth confesses, a blush adorning his face. Seteth lets go, instead opting to fondly hold Byleth’s hand in his. The two slowly head back, the alleyways empty.

“So she wasn’t like us,” Byleth laments. 

“Indeed. I knew she would die in the blink of an eye, but her time was cut even shorter,” Seteth sighs, composing himself before fixing his posture, gently leading Byleth back. “I’ll forever cherish her, but I love you with all my heart. Never forget that,” Byleths chokes on nothing, his face turning pink. 

“I love you too,” Byleth whispers, smiling as he stares at the ground. 

“And I truly am regretful for how I have treated you as of late,” 

“Next time we talk about it,” Byleth holds out his pinky, smiling at Seteth’s disapproving stare, the gesture childish. 

“I promise,” 

The two of them apologize to a worried Flayn, distressed from her fathers not showing up. 

The next day, the three head to the royal cemetery, Seteth carrying a bundle of flowers.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted something short and sweet cause I love Seteth so much, but it instead involved into a headcanon/idea that I really like of immortals traveling the world but then that became sad. Also, kinda wanted this to end lol, so I'm still kinda iffy on the ending.
> 
> If you actually read this without getting spoiled, congrats! If you did get spoiled, shame on you but I warned you.
> 
> Every comment/kudos means so much.


End file.
